


Priorities

by prometheanTactician



Series: Stabdads Shorts and Not So Shorts [4]
Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Stabdads, kinda angst, the relationship is once again just a brief mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/prometheanTactician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aradia gets into some trouble at school, and does not respond well to the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

A fact of life is that adults yell at kids to get their points across. The effectiveness or detrimental effects of this tactic differ from child to child, but generally it gets the point across pretty well. But with some children, it just doesn't work. Karkat just yelled right back, now that he was growing more comfortable in believing that Slick wouldn't hurt him. Tavros became absolutely hysterical, wailing and bawling his eyes out, and you would not get anything through to him until he calmed down. Sollux used anything and everything as an excuse to throw a tantrum, but as Deuce never yelled that problem only arose in school.

But Aradia was different, as she had never been yelled at. Droog wasn't a loud guy. He had a short temper, and was a violent sadist, but he managed to keep his cool even while beating Felt members into submission. He could torture, maim, murder, terrify, and his voice never raised beyond a dangerous, low tone. This worked out just fine at home, because Aradia responded best to logic and reason. He would just calmly explain what she had done, why it wasn't allowed, and if needed how to fix it. That was fine, and that's what worked. He somehow managed to keep that temper of his at bay, which was mostly helped along by how unnaturally reasonable Aradia was for a child. Being so reasonable and polite, and having the family dynamic that they had, she had never had anyone raise their voice at her.

Apparently her teachers didn't get the fucking memo.

She couldn't remember what the fight was about, because she and Vriska fought so much that it all blended together at this point. But things had escalated, and the teacher had stepped in just as they were about to launch over their desks at each other. As they were only second graders, it wasn't likely to be a particularly vicious fight. But then again, with Serket, anything could happen. The teacher had yanked them both by the arm outside the classroom and promptly lost her shit. Now, Aradia had expected a lecture or something. Their first grade teacher, Ms Paint, had been a kind, sweet lady. She'd done about the same thing her father had, explaining what was done wrong calmly. Everyone had behaved, because no one wanted her to be upset, because they genuinely adored her.

When the teacher started screaming at them, Aradia froze. She had no idea what was happened, what was going on. Why was she being so loud? They were right there, the teacher didn't have to scream like that- It was scaring her, loud and startling, not at all what she had expected and nothing she'd ever had to deal with before.

She began to shake.

She knew her eyes were wide, and her constant smile was long gone, replaced with a look of confusion and fear. Serket was actually looking a little bit concerned, and tried to get the teachers attention to warn that something was seriously off with Aradia. Medigo was the calm one, the sensible one. To see her freaking out was alarming even for her worst enemy, which Vriska liked to think she was. The teacher didn't listen, however, and didn't know any better to think much of Aradia's reaction as breathing for the child became difficult. All she noticed, when she did notice anything, was that the supposed genius of the class, the girl who had skipped a grade, had acted out and now was apparently zoning out and clearly not hearing a word she was saying.

Frustrated, at their wits end with these two bickering, they grabbed for Aradia's arm, shaking her back to attention.

Wrong move.

The moment she was touched, grabbed, she went from anxious and scared to full on panic mode. She was ripping away from the teachers hand and gone before even Vriska knew what was happening. Down the hall, past classroom after classroom, as fast as her little legs could take her. The teacher called after her, but everything seemed so loud, and breathing was so hard, her heart was pounding in her ears and she didn't know what was happening.

She was a year younger than everyone else, a genius, a smart, sensible girl. But she didn't know how to deal with being scared, startled, stressed. She didn't understand anything about this, and not understanding was foreign to her, adding to everything.

She was out the doors of the school, the sound of the teacher chasing after her only pushing her forward. By time the teacher got to the doors, she was gone. Upon reporting to the principle, the two adults exchanged a look of dread when realizing they'd have to call her father.

-

To say Droog was not pleased was a bit of an understatement. To be woken up by a call informing him that his 6 year old had run away from the school during a suspected panic attack was sort of a bad way to start his day. Of course, he had been sleeping, as Crew hours ran all through the night and taking care of his daughter took up the afternoons and evenings, the only sleep he got was while she was in school, and now that had been interrupted.

Hanging up, he disentangled himself from the Inspector, who he had been spending his days with as of late. His hours weren't very different from Droogs, after all. The other man grumbled and simply adjusted to the sudden lack of company by burying himself in the blankets. It was impossible to get him up once he actually got some decent rest, which wasn't an issue since they were at his house anyway.

Droog dressed quickly, scowling at the sight of his clothes thrown so haphazardly onto the floor as they had been, and more so at the realization that he would not have time to go change before heading to the school. After all, his daughter was off on her own somewhere, and likely in quite the unstable frame of mind, he couldn't afford to waste time. Not that fashion was usually a waste of time, but priorities.

He kept that in mind as he drove to the school in the rumpled suit he'd worn the day before, gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel.

Priorities.

-

When Aradia finally became aware of her surroundings again, she found she'd only managed to get to the park area near the school before stopping. She'd climbed into the play structure, into a little plastic tunnel, and had stayed curled up there as she'd tried to get her breath back.

Her throat was tight, her chest hurt, her eyes stung, and her arms were sore from squeezing her knees so tightly, curled up in her little ball. Shakily, limbs weak and breath still uneven, she crawled out of her hiding place, shakily making her way towards the school. As she approached she saw her fathers car out front, and immediately picked up her pace. She didn't want to deal with the teacher or the principle or yelling or anything, she just wanted to find her father.

And find him she did, with her teacher backed up against the wall, her father looking positively livid. He was terrifying, really, his appearance unusually dishevel, tearing the teacher down in a low, dangerous voice that he never used with Aradia. She didn't want to interrupt, but realized this was about her and they had probably been looking for her, so she spoke up.

“Daddy?” Her voice was thin, shaky, breaking even on that one word. She was still shaking slightly, though much less than before, and felt oddly... detached. Like she wasn't actually there. Her father was turned to her immediately, and there was a moment of pause between them all (the principle standing by, nerves frayed) before Droog backed away from the teacher and essentially swooped down, scooping his daughter up and heading out the door in one quick, clean movement. He did not look back as the principle tried to address them, and Aradia just clung tightly and buried her face in his shoulder. Priorities. First on the list was to get her home, calm her down, get to the bottom of everything. Then he could rain hell down upon them.

When the teacher 'disappeared' a few days later, no one questioned, no one pried. They most likely didn't deserve it, not having known better, but Diamonds Droog doesn't care who deserves what. You hurt something he cares about, you're dead, and that's that.


End file.
